


(ain't it good to know) you've got a friend

by ArsenicPanda



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Betty Cooper Loves Jughead Jones, F/M, Gen, Happy Ending, Jughead Jones Loves Betty Cooper, Jughead Jones's Friends Hate Betty Cooper and Archie Andrews, but it'll take us a bit to get there, post 4x17, southside serpents, the opinions of the characters do not reflect the opinions of the author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23859409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArsenicPanda/pseuds/ArsenicPanda
Summary: “Get your ass over here; you’re staying with me. I know you, Jughead, you bailed as soon as you heard, and I’m not letting you hole up alone god knows where,” Toni commands, and he wonders how she still knows him so well.Or: The teen Serpents band together to help a heartbroken Jughead cope and find his way forward, each in their own way.
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones, Fangs Fogarty & Jughead Jones, Fangs Fogarty & Jughead Jones & Sweet Pea & Toni Topaz, Jughead Jones & Sweet Pea, Jughead Jones & Toni Topaz
Comments: 59
Kudos: 107
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	1. Jughead

When Jughead finds out about it, about the betrayal and the heartbreak and the loss, he bails. Barely listening to Betty's talk about being _confused_ and _nostalgic_ and sorry and how it'd never happen again and he's the one she loves, not Archie (and god how he wishes he could believe that), he grabs the backpack he used the last time he was homeless from the closet, packs up his laptop and a few changes of clothes, and he bolts.

 _“You don’t have to do this, I’ll find somewhere else—_ ”

_“I can’t stay here. I just...I can’t.”_

_“But where will you go? You shouldn’t—”_

_“I’ll figure it out. I always do.”_

He takes his bike and heads to the bunker, because he can’t hole up in Pop’s right now, he can’t handle being in public. The bunker might be full of memories, almost as many as Betty’s room and her house, but some of his stuff is still there, and he really doesn’t feel like going back to the closet in the school. At least in the bunker he could obsessively watch the tapes in an attempt to block out the memory of what just happened.

It’s two minutes after he gets there that he gets the call; he hasn’t even had a chance to settle in beyond bringing his backpack down the ladder, and wasn't that a pain. The screen reads “Toni,” and he hasn’t heard from her in months, but he picks up because if he doesn’t, she’ll just keep calling. She’s persistent like that; it’s one of the things that made them such good friends.

“I heard the news. Are you ok?”

“You heard from where?” In theory, he could act dumb, play the _what news?_ game, but he is so, so tired, and it just isn't worth denying. Betty cheated on him with Archie, and he needs to admit that to himself and others. It's just the truth.

“Veronica told Cheryl who told me. And don’t dodge the question.” Typical Toni, never letting him get away with any of his bullshit.

“How do you think I am, Toni? My girlfriend, the girlfriend I’ve lived with for a year and loved for so, so much longer, just cheated on me with my best friend.” Hopefully she can't hear the exhaustion in his voice the way he can, and he stumbles over to the bed, wanting nothing more than to lie down. Has it only been three weeks since he and Betty last made love here? It all seems so far away now.

“So you feel like shit.”

“More or less.”

There’s silence for a while, and he thinks about just hanging up. They’re clearly done.

But then:

“Get your ass over here; you’re staying with me. I know you, Jughead, you bailed as soon as you heard, and I’m not letting you hole up alone god knows where,” she commands, and he wonders how she still knows him so well.

“I’ve got it under control.” And he does, really. The bunker will be fine. He lived here for two weeks alone, what are a few more?

“Bullshit.”

“I doubt Cheryl’d—”

“I’ll deal with Cheryl. You’re coming over and staying in the guest room, no ifs, ands, or buts."

“Toni—”

“I owe you one, Jughead, let me do this," and she isn't asking, she's insisting.

“You only stayed over a couple of times. You don’t owe me anything.” It was more than that, they both know it, but Toni doesn’t press the issue.

“Fine, then you owe me one.” The _because you kicked me out of the Serpents and didn’t tell me you were faking your death, you dick_ goes unspoken. “And I’m calling it in. Don’t make me hunt you down and drag you here.”

Jughead sighs and looks around the bunker, from the bed he and Betty shared to the place they hung their murder board to the desk where they had the fight that drove her into Archie’s arms. As memory after memory floods his mind, his eyes water and his breath starts to waver and he really, really doesn't want to cry right now.

Toni’s right. He can’t stay here.

“Fine, you win. How do I get there from the bunker?” he asks, and he hopes his voice doesn’t crack.

“I’ll text you the directions. It’s only thirty minutes by bike, so you better be here in forty. Unless you need to be picked up?” He’s not sure if she’s giving him time to gather his stuff or time for a quick cry, if the offer to drive him comes from uncertainty that he has his bike or uncertainty that he could drive safely right now, but he’s grateful just the same.

“No, I’m good to drive. I’ll see you soon,” he says and hangs up.

Taking a deep breath and blinking back tears, he gathers up some of the debris left over from his time faking his death, some clothes, books, and odds and ends. As he grabs his school books from the desk, he spies the binder Betty made for him, the one he’d thrown during their fight. It had taken him fifteen minutes to put back together so it was usable. He flips through the pages, Betty’s neat notes and careful handwriting looking back at him.

_"I’m trying to make sure that we stay together, that we have a future."_

He’d finished everything in there for that, and while he had been working—

He slams the binder shut, grabs his backpack, and heads for the ladder.

The binder stays where he leaves it.


	2. Toni

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Toni takes Jughead in and lures him into a classic post-breakup talk, complete with ice cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much as I love Betty (and even sometimes Archie), Toni reacts the way most people would when their friend's SO cheated on them with said friend's best friend, which is to say, she is, uh, _not a fan_ (especially of Betty's since she never liked her in the first place), despite Jughead's protests. So just a heads up there.
> 
> And, again, eternal thanks to cyd (@smugheadjonesthethird) for an outstanding job betaing.

There’s a knock at her door, and Toni thinks, _Finally_. It’s been exactly twenty-six minutes since she called him, and she’s been waiting in the foyer for the past eight. Bracing herself for what she might see, she opens the door, and there he is: Jughead Jones, soaked from rain and carrying a giant backpack.

Of course there’s dramatic rain to go with his breakup, _of course_.

Taking him in, Toni’s never seen Jughead quite like this. Oh, she’s seen him heartbroken from the last time Betty and Archie had stomped all over his heart, but even then he hadn’t been _this_ bad. There’s something empty in his red-rimmed eyes, and Toni has to fight the urge to go over to Betty and Archie's houses and beat the shit out of them.

“Where’s your lesser half?” he asks, looking around like he expects to be kicked out any second, and Toni's heart breaks just a little for him.

“She’s at Veronica’s with Kevin.” Cheryl had rushed out almost as soon as she heard, telling Toni to come with her. But Toni knew she had something more important to do here.

Jughead nods, probably remembering he isn’t the only one whose life just got upended by two cheating assholes. He is, however, the one she cares about more, though she doesn’t say as much. He already knows, she’s sure. He might be estranged family, but he's still family.

They stand there awkwardly for a moment, him readjusting the backpack on his shoulder, her tapping her fingers on the door. They haven’t been close or spoken much since the blow up last year, though they’re at least on good terms now, even if they don’t hang out much. He’s been off at his fancy school full of people who try to kill him and then spending any of his time back home with Betty, and Toni’s been wrapped up in Cheryl and the rum business. They’ve both hung out with Sweet Pea and Fangs, but usually separately.

Still, no Serpent stands alone.

“Are you just going to stand there, or are you coming in?”

“Do I have a choice?” he asks dryly, but there’s something off about it.

“No, get your ass inside.” Normally, her comment would be met with a roll of his eyes or a huff, but now his face is just blank.

_Fucking Betty Cooper._

When he steps in, he’s looking every which way, eyeing up the decor. Toni gets it, she’d been overwhelmed the first few times she’d been here too.

“So, on a scale from one to ten, how does this rate as the setting for a Gothic horror novel? I know you’ve got a creepy old woman stashed in here, but are there any other tropes I should look out for?” He’s missing the usual sly grin that goes with his sardonic humor, but Toni will take what she can get right now.

“Depends on the day, but usually somewhere between four and seven,” she jokes back. She doesn’t tell him about Jason’s corpse’s stay. “But it was a full ten when Cheryl's mom was hiding in the walls. Come on, your room’s this way.”

“When Cheryl's mom was _what_?” he asks, fortunately. She’s got his attention now, and a curious Jughead is a distracted Jughead. 

She gives him the Edge Notes version as she leads him to the guest room at the end of the hall on the second floor, taking her time to get there and lowering her voice as they pass the twins’ room. She finishes just as they reach their destination. “I’ll give you the full story later, promise. First, we have to get you settled in.”

He snorts as soon as she opens the door. “I’ve never seen this much red in my life. And is that a candelabra?”

“It’s an aesthetic choice,” she says, shrugging. “Ok, so, bed, closet, dresser, bookshelf, desk, and there’s a bathroom attached over there.” She points around the room as she leads him in. When he dawdles just inside the entrance, she tugs him forward by the wrist. “You’re soaking wet, so get changed and settled in. I’ll be right back.”

“You’re not leaving me alone so Nana Rose can corner me to tell tales of eerie maple-fueled rituals, are you?” he asks mockingly, and Toni smiles in relief.

“Not tonight,” she jokes as she leaves, closing the door behind her to give him some privacy.

She hurries down to the kitchen as quietly as she can and raids the fridge and the pantry, foregoing the liquor cabinet for the night. They have more maple rum than ice cream, leftover meat, and carbs, but she loads up what she can find onto a tray and takes it back upstairs.

Hands full, she kicks the door when she gets to his room. The last thing either of them want is for her to walk in on him changing or crying. Jughead’s always been a very private person, after all. “Jughead?”

“Is that you, Toni, or a ghost come to tell me of the horrors committed in this house?” His voice, muffled by the door, is light but forced.

“It’s me, jackass. Now open the door.”

When he does, she holds up the tray for him to inspect. “I figured you were hungry.”

“I could eat, yeah.” He nods and lets her in, but otherwise has no reaction to a tray full of food, and Toni just—

 _Fucking Betty Cooper_.

Toni fights off a scowl as she sets the tray in the middle of the bed and hops up on the right side of the bed. “Come on, I’m not letting you eat all this alone.”

“Are you trying to lure me into girl talk?” he drawls. But he gets up on the left side of the bed himself and grabs a chip off the tray and pops it into his mouth.

Toni takes it as a win.

“Only if you’re up for it.” She shrugs. She picks up a pint of ice cream and a spoon and shoves them in his face. “But I do insist on eating ice cream. It’s the best thing for a breakup.”

“Let me guess, maple flavored?”

“What else is there?” she asks, faking offense. It gets her a soft chuckle that doesn’t sound quite right. “Now eat up before I force it down your throat.”

“I got it, I got it.” He opens the pint and starts eating, albeit slower than usual.

Toni picks up her own pint, and they eat together in silence. She takes small bites for once, trying to figure out what to say, if she should even say anything. The last time Betty broke his heart like the bitch she is, Toni gave him a tattoo and they’d sloppily made out for a bit, not speaking a word about what had happened to him. Obviously, that’s not an option now, and she doesn’t think it even worked that well back then.

And a regular, if harsh, going by what Sweet Pea and Fangs had told her, breakup after a few months of dating is different from being cheated on after dating for years and living together. What do you say to that?

He’s halfway through his ice cream when she decides to just cut to the issue, rip the woundaid right off.

“So what happened?” she asks. She’s heard Archie’s lame excuses thirdhand through Cheryl, so she has some idea, but she wants to hear Jughead’s interpretation.

“We fought. They kissed. They hid it for two weeks. Betty cracked and told me. That’s it.”

“Fought about what?” This part she doesn’t know, and she _needs_ to know so she can determine just how much damage she needs to do to the bitch.

“She talked to my teachers and pulled together a way for me to catch up and graduate with her. I told her I’d do it, but I half-assed what I did and then spent my time investigating the tapes behind her back instead.” He shoves a bite of ice cream into his mouth before continuing. “She caught me slacking off, called me a dead-end version of myself, and said that I was jeopardizing our future together. I told her that there wasn’t a future without her, but sarcastically apologized for not being myself after I was brained by the Stonies. We screamed at each other, she stormed out, I hunkered down.”

“That’s it? She cheated on you because you didn’t do your fucking homework?!” Slamming her hand on the bed, Toni wonders which of Betty’s bones she can get away with breaking.

“I think it’s a bit more nuanced than that,” he mumbles. 

“Fuck nuance, she _cheated on you_. God, what bullshit line did she feed you to excuse it?”

He sighs and stares down at his ice cream, sticking his spoon in it. “She didn’t _excuse_ it. She was...she was,” and here his voice hitches, “ _confused_ and _nostalgic_ , whatever that means.”

“You’ve lived together for over a year and she’s fucking _confused_ and _nostalgic_ over abs-for-brains?!”

He nods.

Toni’s blood is boiling, and if she clenches her ice cream pint any harder, she’s going to puncture it.

_Fucking Betty Cooper._

“It’s funny,” he chokes out, putting down his ice cream and leaning back into the pillows. He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, and Toni can tell he’s holding back tears. “Just a little over a month ago she said the thirty-six hours she thought I might die were the worst thirty-six hours of her life. Just three weeks ago she told me that she didn’t have any feelings for Archie, that I was the only man for her. What happened? Was that a lie? Were these past three years just one big fucking lie?”

Toni places her hand on his shoulder; the words she needs won’t come.

“Did she ever...did she ever even love me?” he asks, and she can hear his voice and heart break.

_Fucking Betty Cooper._

“I know,” she starts slowly, and she hates having to admit this, “that she’s looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky the whole time I’ve known you.”

“Then why—”

“Because regardless of what she _feels_ , she’s a bitch and he’s a dick, and you’re better off without them.” Toni wishes she had a better answer, a happier answer, for him, but she doesn’t. “Sometimes the people you love are assholes, and you have to cut them out of your life.”

Jughead barks out a laugh even as his voice wavers. “Good to know you’re as frank as ever.”

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em." Toni squeezes his shoulder, and he moves to squeeze her hand back.

“But don’t,” he bites, his voice sharp through his grief and his posture tense like a serpent poised to strike, and she can already tell she won’t like where this is going, “don’t call her a bitch. She’s not.”

“Jughead, she _cheated on you_. Get mad! Vent! Tell me every shitty thing she’s ever done, don’t hold back, I’m not going to judge you. She’s a piece of shit, so why—”

“ _I love her_. I’ve loved her since I was a kid watching her trail after Archie. I’ll love her til the day I die, I don’t know how not to. She’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met, ever _will_ meet, and these last three years have been the best of my life. Yeah, they’re tainted now, but being loved by Betty Cooper, or at least thinking I was...there was nothing better in this world.” His voice floods with grief in that trying-not-to-cry way the whole way through his little speech, and Toni can see the tears roll down his cheeks.

She grinds her teeth. Jughead’s loyal to a fault, she’s always known that, and _fucking Betty Cooper_ does _not_ deserve that loyalty. She never has, honestly. There’s something fake about her that Toni’s never liked and Jughead’s never seen. _You don’t know the real her, you haven’t seen her in action_ , he’d always tell her, and Toni just scoffed because people who pretend to be something they’re not aren’t worth the time of day. Sure, Betty always _acted_ like she loved Jughead, but Toni never trusted it, not completely.

She was right, but she’s not going to rub salt in the wound by telling him that. Not now, maybe not ever.

“She doesn’t deserve you,” she swears, and there are few things she’s less sure of.

“Betty deserves everything she wants. If that’s Archie, fine, I’ll deal,” he says with resigned conviction.

Afraid of the answer, Toni pauses before asking, “And if she asks you to take her back?”

“I...I don’t know. I love her, but I don’t know if I can trust her. I can’t live our whole life together wondering if she actually loves me or if she’s settling or if she’ll get _confused_ and _nostalgic_ again.”

 _Good_. Toni doesn’t want Jughead to be sad, obviously, but the bitch doesn’t deserve a second chance.

"And Archie?"

"I don’t know what to do with Archie either. He’s like my brother, or I thought he was, and he did the one thing he knew would hurt me most. Brothers don't do that," he says, sighing, but there’s a hint of frustration in his voice.

 _Neither do girlfriends_ she doesn’t say.

“Then ditch the ginger Judas. He’s always seemed like a flake anyway.”

“Archie...Archie _means_ well, but he can be a thoughtless dick sometimes.”

“Ok, examples, receipts, I need them now.” If Jughead can only be mad at Archie right now, despite the fact that Betty was equally at fault, fine. Toni thinks it's dumb, but Jughead's blindspot for Betty is legendary at this point, and now's not the time to challenge it.

“Well, in the summer before sophomore year,” he begins, and then he proceeds to tell her about a summer of missed calls and unanswered texts, about a road trip that never happened, about a friendship that fell apart. Toni reassures Jughead that he did nothing wrong and that Archie is a dick, and they go through story after story of Archie the Flake, letting Jughead vent every frustration he’s ever had with his now ex-best friend. By the time they make it through the rest of their food, Jughead is peppering his stories with pop culture references again.

As he snatches up the last potato chip, she asks, “Feel any better?”

“A little, yeah,” he says, and his slight smile tells her everything she needs to know.

“See? Venting: it’s good for the soul. So when you’re ready to vent about Betty—”

“If that day ever comes, I’ll call you right away.”

“Damn right you will. So, next item on the agenda: weekend plans, we need them. I was thinking tomorrow we call up Sweet Pea and Fangs and—”

“Actually, I was going to head back to the bunker to—”

“Oh no, you’re not going back down to that bunker to just _wallow_ ,” she says. She knows that the bunker is basically Jughead and Betty’s little love nest slash Jughead’s fake-death hideaway, not to mention the site of their fight, and she’s not letting him relive any of those memories.

“I won’t be _wallowing_ , I’ll be _researching_. That’s where the tapes are,” he insists.

“We can bring them here, dimwit.”

“Ah, yes, because Cheryl would _so_ enjoy having me camp out in your living room reviewing creepy surveillance tapes at all hours of the day and night, and I’m sure the kids will love it, it makes for perfect children’s programming.”

Toni tilts her head as if to say, _Okay, fair_. “Then we’ll take whatever rig you have there and bring it here. No way you have something so large that it won’t fit on that desk.”

Technically, it’s _his_ desk now, but she’ll have to ease him into that. She knows he won’t be going back to Betty’s until and unless they’re completely reconciled, which makes _this_ his home for the foreseeable future. Toni knows what it’s like jumping from place to place, not having somewhere to call your own, and knows that Jughead knows what it’s like too. They haven’t talked about their mutual homelessness much, but they’ve talked about it enough for her to know that he craves a home and a family with every bone in his body the same way she does, that they’ve felt the same ache at having nowhere to go and no one to go to.

He’s just had the home he finally found snatched away from him, and she’ll be damned if he feels that ache again.

He frowns, and she knows she’s got him.

“That’s what I thought. Sweet Pea and Fangs can bring it over tomorrow, along with any of your other shit from the bunker or the house, so be sure to text me a list later to send to them. But during the week, you’re reviewing those tapes _after_ you’ve done your work. I’m not letting this breakup ruin your chance of getting out of this hellhole. Come September, you’re out of here, the same as the rest of us.”

“Gonna kick me out if I don’t?” he asks, and as much as it sounds like a joke, she knows there’s a real question behind it.

_Fucking Betty Cooper._

“As if. You’re not getting out of here that easily. This is your home for as long as you want it,” she promises, and she pauses to let that sink in. Shock is evident on his face, so she barrels on before he can protest. “But I’m cutting off access to the kitchen if you so much as _try_ to ditch school.”

His earlier shock is quickly discarded for indignation once she threatens his food supply. “Now that’s just playing dirty.”

She shrugs. “Hey, whatever’s necessary.” 

“Fine, _fine_ , school before investigations, you slave driver.”

“Hey, someone’s got to keep you in line.” She bumps his shoulder with hers and gets an eye roll in return. She continues, “So, tomorrow: after Sweet Pea and Fangs get here with all your shit, we’re all going to the grocery store to stock up on junk food, and when we get back we’ll marathon bad movies.”

“Do I get a say in this?” he drawls, but he can’t hide the smile on his face.

“No.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like a _bad_ time, so sure, let’s do it,” he fake concedes.

“Good,” she says, picking up the tray and getting off the bed. “Now get some sleep, I’m waking your ass up at 9:30 regardless.”

“Ugh, fine,” he groans.

She snorts. “Good night, you big baby.”

She’s halfway out the door when he says, “Hey, Toni...thanks. I owe you.” 

She turns, and he’s wearing the kind of soft smile she was afraid he wouldn’t have anymore.

“You don’t owe me shit, Jughead. Now get some sleep,” she responds, a smile of her own on her face. It’s good to have him back.

She heads out, closing the door behind her. When she gets back to her and Cheryl’s room, she’ll have to text Sweet Pea and Fangs ad then start planning out the bad movie selection for tomorrow and finding the best ways to help someone after they break up with their awful, cheating ex. Knowing Jughead, getting revenge on said ex is unfortunately out of the question, so Toni’s left with making him forget about _fucking Betty Cooper_ , no matter how long it takes. 

Operation Get Jughead Over Betty begins now.


	3. Sweet Pea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Pea is on a mission to protect Jones and is ready and willing to fight anyone who interferes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much like Toni, Sweet Pea is Not A Fan of Archie and Betty, and will be saying and thinking some unkind and harsh things to and about them, so heads up there.
> 
> And, as always, I cannot think cyd (@shrugheadjonesthethird) enough for her help.

Sweet Pea hears about it from Toni via text in a group chat with Fangs late Friday night: _The bitch cheated on Jughead with Archie. Stand by for updates._

His first thought is _Fucking Northsiders, fucking Archie, fucking Betty_.

He knew he shouldn’t have trusted them. They aren't Serpents, not really. Archie only has that tattoo because Jones wanted to protect him; he didn’t earn it. And Betty only joined for Jones. Everything she did was to help him, not the Serpents. They don’t understand the laws, the loyalty, the family. It was inevitable they’d bail and betray the Serpents, just like Cheryl did, only this time they aren’t taking anyone with them.

No, all they did was crush Jones’s heart underfoot. So much for _No Serpent betrays their own_.

With a frustrated grunt, Sweet Pea punches the wall of his trailer. He’d told Jones, he’d told him that Betty would bail like her mother, leave for that perfect Northside life. But did Jones listen? No. Instead, he made his argument, and Sweet Pea listened like an idiot.

This could have been avoided, this all could have been avoided if Jones had just _listened_ for once in his goddamn life instead of digging his heels in in the name of what he thought was love. Northsiders always prefer each other once they’re done slumming it: Kevin preferred Moose over Joaquin, Josie preferred Archie over Sweet Pea, and now Betty prefers Archie over Jones. Sweet Pea’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop with Kevin and Fangs and Cheryl and Toni, but he’s not optimistic.

He takes a deep breath. Getting mad isn’t going to do anything; he doesn’t even know the details of what he should be mad _about_. So he dicks around on his phone, waiting to hear more from Toni.

Hours later, he gets a text: _Archie and Betty kissed and lied about it, but they just came clean. Jughead’s staying with me, and we’re helping him move out tomorrow. Head to his house in the morning, borrow his dad’s truck, load it up with his stuff, and then go get his AV crap from the bunker. I’ll send you a detailed list later._

Another text: _And cancel your plans for the weekend, we’re spending it watching movies and eating junk food at my place. Got it?_

Sweet Pea sends a thumbs up, as does Fangs. They work out that they’ll both ride to Toni’s first so they can share a bike to Jones’s place and not have to deal with moving a car and two motorcycles with only two people.

Once they’ve got the logistics down, Fangs asks: _Why do you think they did it?_

Sweet Pea responds: _It doesn’t matter. The result is the same._

Toni adds an upwards pointing finger followed by _Fuck those assholes._

And that’s that. Sweet Pea sets his alarm for a time too early for a Saturday morning and then heads to bed. In his dreams, he pummels Archie within an inch of his life, forcing him to apologize to Jones. Betty is there too, weeping and apologizing and begging him to take her back, but Jones turns her away, and Sweet Pea has the pleasure of kicking her out.

* * *

Sure enough, when Sweet Pea wakes up, Toni’s texted Fangs and him a list of shit to get from Jones’s house and the bunker. Unsurprisingly, it’s short and simple.

Her list is followed by: _Don’t bother texting Jughead about the list. I caught him reading Betty’s texts, so I took his phone._

With that in mind, when he and Fangs get to the Cooper-Jones house, they split up duties: Sweet Pea gets Jughead’s stuff from his room and Fangs gets the truck from FP.

Looking at the list and around Jones’s room, Sweet Pea sees that Jones doesn’t have a lot of stuff—a few books, some S t-shirts and flannels, and more jackets than is reasonable—so it only takes one duffle bag to move him out of his and Betty’s room completely. The only thing of real interest is _The Complete Works of H.P. Lovecraft_ , not because Sweet Pea gives a shit about it, but because four pictures fall out of it: one of Jones and Betty at some formal event, one of Jones and Archie, one of Betty in her cheerleading outfit, and one of Jones and what must be his kid sister. 

For a moment, Sweet Pea is tempted to just throw the first three away so Jones doesn’t have to deal with pictures of traitors in the first place, but then he remembers how sentimental Jones is and slides them back into the book. Maybe they can convince him to burn the pictures as some kind of symbol of letting Betty and Archie go, but Sweet Pea gets the feeling Jones will be keeping at least one of the photos with Betty.

Once everything’s all packed up, Sweet Pea notices a typewriter on the desk that _must_ be Jones’s, but it isn’t on the list, so he leaves it where it is. 

When he’s halfway down the hall with the duffle bag, Jones’s kid sister appears and blocks his way.

“Where’s my brother?” she demands to know more than asks. Sweet Pea can tell this kid is going to annoy him.

“At a friend’s.” He tries to move past her, but she steps in front of him again.

“Which friend? Is he ok?”

“Toni’s. He’s safe,” he says, and it isn’t a lie, it’s just a selective truth. Jones isn’t in a place to explain cheating and heartbreak to his kid sister, so it’s best to lie and keep her away.

“Then why isn’t he _here_? Where are you taking his things?”

“Look, kid, it’s complicated.” He tries to fake her out to get past her, but she doesn’t fall for it.

She narrows her eyes at him. “When’s he coming back?”

“I don’t know. Now _move_.”

She doesn’t. If anything, she holds her ground even more. “Why do you get to see him but I don’t? He’s _my_ brother.”

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

“That’s not an answer!” she shouts, and he expects her to stomp her foot in childish anger, but instead she looks him dead in the eye and, with the force and presence of someone twice her age and size, insists, “I helped last time, I can help again.”

This kid is as stubborn as Jones, which he does _not_ need this early in the morning.

“Jesus fucking—he and Betty had a big fight, he needed to get out of here, I’m sure he’ll explain later, but there’s nothing you can do about it now, so just fucking _move_.”

“I can’t help him, but you can?” she asks, and the skepticism on her face is pure Jones.

“I’m gonna try, but you know how your brother is: stubborn as a mule and twice as annoying. But I’m just as stubborn as he is,” he says, deadly serious and staring her down.

She looks at him like he’s passed some kind of test. “Yeah, I know, he is. Ok, you can go, but you better take care of him,” she threatens, stepping aside, and she means it. She can’t be over thirteen, just a scrawny kid he’s got at least six inches on, but she has that same intensity Jones does, and Sweet Pea does not want to fuck with that brand of crazy; he’s seen what happens to people that do. Betty and Archie are going to be in deep shit when this kid finds out what they did, and if he was a more forgiving guy, he might feel bad for them. As it stands, though, he’s just disappointed he won’t get to see it for himself.

“That’s the plan,” he says as he heads toward the stairs, leaving the kid behind him. He’ll have to tell Toni to let Jones text her later.

When he gets downstairs, he learns from Fangs that, while Sweet Pea was gathering Jones’s stuff, Fangs got permission to borrow FP’s truck so they can haul the gear Jones keeps in the bunker to Toni’s. Whatever bullshit story Fangs fed him must have worked because FP doesn’t try to join or follow them so he can see his son, meaning Jones doesn’t have to explain that he’s leaving home because his live-in girlfriend cheated on him. Then they head over to the bunker and pick up Jones’s old-ass TV and VCR, as well as all those tapes he’s been obsessing over, even though they’re a bitch to get out.

Mission accomplished.

* * *

Sweet Pea first sees Jones when he brings the TV up to his room, and he isn’t wearing his beanie; the thing isn’t even off to the side, it’s just _gone_. He’s sitting on the bed typing away at his laptop, but something is off. He’s typing slower than usual for one, and his hair is sticking up in all directions, but Sweet Pea can’t put his finger on what, exactly, is wrong about him.

“Hey, Jones, I’ve got your shit, where does it go?” he says by way of greeting.

“Good morning to you, too.” Jones snorts and looks up from his typing; the bags under his eyes are darker than usual, and Sweet Pea could swear his eyes are red. “Put the TV on that desk; I’ll set it up later.”

“You’re really serious about this surveillance stalker shit, huh?” he asks as he sets the TV down on the desk.

“Someone has to be. I’ve already found a tape where two people dressed like Betty and me, complete with masks that look like us, act out a scene of Betty bashing me over the head with a rock. Who knows what else is on there?”

“Wait, masks? Bashing your head in with a rock? What the fuck?”

“My thoughts exactly.” He pauses. “I can show you, if you want.”

Sweet Pea nods. This is exactly the kind of weird shit he should keep an eye on, just in case it drags Jones into a world of trouble like every other time before. “I’ll get the rest of the AV stuff.”

By the time Sweet Pea and Fangs have finished bringing up the last of Jones’s stuff, Jones has set up his TV and VCR and put the tapes on the bookshelf in some weird order that he refuses to let Sweet Pea mess with. He carefully selects one, puts it in, and fast forwards to a scene in the woods where, just like he said, someone in a weird Betty mask and costume repeatedly brains someone dressed like Jughead with a weird Jughead mask. It’s surreal.

Fangs blinks rapidly and leans in toward the TV as if that will help things make sense. “What did we just watch?”

“A fake snuff film, hopefully,” Jones responds.

“Where would someone even get masks of you and Betty?” Sweet Pea asks.

“I have some theories,” Jones says, but he’s missing the glint in his eye he normally gets when an investigation starts. Even as he explains his wild theories, he’s less intense, less commanding, less _Jones_. It’s like part of him is gone.

Sweet Pea frowns.

Jones has wormed his way into Sweet Pea’s life to become the pretentious brother he never had, a bond forged in blood, more than a little of it Jones’s. They aren’t as close as him and Fangs, but they’re still pretty fucking close, and Sweet Pea will be damned if he lets Jones drown in his heartbreak. The last time Betty and Archie ripped his heart out, Jones had bottled it all up and shoved it down to deal with never. He was grumpy and angry at everything, and Sweet Pea could work with that, he got that. But this is a shell of who Jones used to be, and Sweet Pea doesn’t know how to handle it.

For now, he guesses he’ll indulge Jones in his investigation, maybe see if they can get him one of those murder boards he loves so much. They can lend a hand with brainstorming, maybe keep him company while he’s pouring over those tapes like a man obsessed. They can’t fill the Betty-shaped hole in Jones’s life, but they can do their best to offer an alternative.

Sweet Pea shares a look with Fangs, and they talk about the tapes with Jones until Toni comes in to drag them to the grocery store to get food.

* * *

Apparently, when on a shopping spree with three other people, it’s easy to lose someone, namely Jones, who still doesn’t have his phone. Thanks, Toni.

After more searching than should be necessary, Sweet Pea finds him standing in the bakery section, hands shoved in his pockets, just staring at the cakes, or maybe past them. There’s a look of grief-stricken longing on his face that can’t just be about cake. It’s Betty somehow, invading Jones’s thoughts even when he tries to find comfort in food.

But Sweet Pea doesn’t bring up Betty. He and Jones don’t really talk about their feelings; that’s not what their friendship is about. It’s solidarity in shitty lives and silent understanding and sharing illegal weapons. Sometimes they talk about their experiences, their families, but mostly they dick around and shoot the shit while Sweet Pea teaches Jones how to actually throw a punch and use a switchblade and Jones helps him with his English homework. Ok, so Fangs helps with the punching bit and gets them both through math, but still. Jones is his friend, and there’s one thing Sweet Pea can offer him, one way to remind him that no Serpent stands alone.

“So, do you want me to hold Archie while you break his nose?”

Jones sighs. “I’m not going to act like some neanderthal, fighting over Betty like she’s property. She's her own person. She chose to cheat on me, I can’t blame Archie for that,” he says, and he sounds so fucking _tired_.

“He stabbed you in the back, you can blame him for that,” Sweet Pea protests.

“Yeah, he did, and I do. But breaking his nose won’t change anything.”

“Then what do you want to do with him?”

“Never speak to him again.” He clenches his jaw. “Do you know he wanted to continue it, just keep seeing each other behind our backs, but Betty told him ‘no’?”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sweet Pea murmurs. He knew Archie was garbage, but _that_ garbage? He’d be impressed if he wasn’t so disgusted.

Jones continues, “Exactly. And if I know Archie, he’s going to give me excuse after excuse, ignoring what he did, and I just don’t care about his bullshit apologies anymore. I’ve forgiven him for a lot of things over the years, but I am _done_ giving him second chances,” Jones says, and there’s a bitterness in his voice that can come only from a lifetime of disappointment.

Sweet Pea nods. He never thought he’d see the day when Jones’s loyalty reached its limits, didn’t even think it was _possible_ for someone to betray and piss him off that much, but apparently it is, and Archie Andrews is that someone. Now it’s Sweet Pea’s self-assigned duty to keep Archie as far from Jones as possible. “Got it. Now let’s go grab some cookie dough.”

Jones turns to look at him, a certain _I know what you’re doing_ look in his eyes, and nods. “I could go for some cookie dough.”

“Good. They better have enough for all of us to eat, not just you and your bottomless pit of a stomach.” Sweet Pea takes Jones by the shoulder and leads him away from the bakery and, hopefully, thoughts of Betty Cooper and Archie Andrews.

* * *

Around halfway through _The Room_ , Cheryl strides in and passes them with a quick, “TT, stooges, don’t mind me, just collecting some things.”

And they don’t. They go right back to mocking the movie until Cheryl glides back in with a fancy purse and a garment bag.

She strikes a pose before saying, “I’m off to an exquisite outing with Veronica and her entourage. TT, do you want to join?”

“No, I’m good, babe. Have fun,” Toni says, offering her a smile that Cheryl returns.

“Suit yourself.” She moves to leave but stops. She turns to Jones, and Sweet Pea tenses, ready to tell her to fuck off, but she says, in the most casually condescending way, “Hobo, you look much better without that awful beanie. I suggest you rid yourself of it permanently, maybe burn it outside, and if you _must_ replace it, I insist we find something more suitable and perhaps replace your tragic excuse for a wardrobe while we’re at it.”

It might be the nicest thing Sweet Pea’s heard Cheryl say to anyone other than Toni.

Jones just squints at her, head tilted in confusion. “...Thank you? But I’ll have to pass.”

She sighs. “Why you condemn yourself to such terrible fashion is beyond me. But the offer stands, should you ever come to your senses.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“See that you do.” She turns to Toni and blows her a kiss. “I’ll see you later, ma chérie. Toodles!”

And then she’s gone, just as quickly and dramatically as she came. Jones looks as baffled by the whole exchange as Sweet Pea feels.

Toni nudges Jones. “You’re going to have to get used to her being nice.”

“I don’t think I ever will,” Jones replies, shaking his head.

Toni just grins and turns back to the movie, rewinding to where they were when Cheryl breezed in. “Famous last words, Jones.”

After that, they keep watching movies until they all fall asleep, Toni and Sweet Pea on the couch and Jughead and Fangs on the floor. Fangs slips down to sleep on his right side, and Jones falls right with him, curling up to Fangs’s legs. Toni and Sweet Pea fall off to opposite sides, with both of them having brought their legs up on the couch, but Toni’s the one who, while turning over in the morning, kicks him in the face hard enough to wake him at ten in the morning.

“Fuck!”

He pushes the offending foot out of his face and sits up. He’s got a crick in his neck, but he can ignore that in favor of food, so he tries to shake Toni awake by grabbing the foot that had smacked him in the face in the first place. When that doesn’t work, he rubs his foot in her face because damn it, she can kick _hard_.

“Hngh,” she murmurs, starting to wake up. Then she grabs his foot, shoves it away, and groans, “Gross.”

“You deserve it, you _kicked me_.”

“Not on purpose, asshole.”

“Don’t care, same result.”

When Sweet Pea lightly kicks Jones awake, he is met with a mumbled, “Later, Betty,” as Jones wraps himself farther around Fangs’s legs.

It’d be sickeningly sweet if it weren’t for the current situation.

Sweet Pea kicks him again, harder, and gets a louder, “What the fuck?”

“Wake up, I’m hungry.”

Jones perks up. “What’s for breakfast?”

In his enthusiasm for food, Jones harshly rolls Fangs over while he’s getting up, and Fangs lets out a loud, “Ow!” when his nose is shoved into the ground.

“There are easier ways to wake me up,” Fangs says, voice muffled by the floor.

“Yeah, well, it’s a morning of harsh wake-up calls,” Sweet Pea says. “Now what is there to eat around here?”

They spend the morning eating pancakes—they have to make two batches thanks to Jones and his appetite—and debating what to watch next. Later, they indulge Jones in watching a few Tarantino movies and allow Fangs _Guys and Dolls_ , but they have to bail before Sweet Pea and Toni’s picks of _Die Hard_ and _But I’m a Cheerleader_ , respectively, because none of them have done their homework yet.

Overall, it’s not a bad weekend.

* * *

Come Monday morning, they all meet up again in the student lounge. Jones is, unsurprisingly, sullen, while Toni and Fangs are keeping a close eye on him. Sweet Pea though, Sweet Pea looks for Archie and Betty like a hawk so he can steer Jones away from them.

He sees them both separately, over twenty minutes apart and not interacting at all, and Sweet Pea’s not sure what he expected. Archie and Betty walking hand-in-hand, rubbing their cheating happiness in everyone’s faces, maybe. Or Archie, surrounded by friends, joking around like nothing happened. Or even Betty walking around defiant, refusing to bow to other people’s judgment. But that’s not what happens. 

No, instead Archie is isolated with Munroe, his last friend, looking like a dog with his tail between his legs. Sweet Pea sees him try to approach Betty, but she ignores him and then bolts when he won’t leave. Betty walks around alone, shoulders stiff. She looks _wrong_ , the same way Jones looks wrong. It’s like she’s missing something, missing some intangible, undefinable thing that makes her distinctly Betty Cooper. And if it were anyone else, he’d feel bad for her. But Betty made her bed, and now she has to lie in it. Why she cheated on Jones with Archie, only to avoid Archie at all costs, is beyond him, but he doesn’t particularly care. What’s done is done.

Sweet Pea keeps Jones away from Betty and Archie that morning, and he’s able to dodge Archie’s attempts to approach Jones for the rest of the morning, but he isn’t so lucky at keeping Betty away as the day moves on. Whenever Jones gets a glimpse of Betty, in or out of class, he zones out completely with a wistful, sad look on his face. Sweet Pea does his best to snap him out of these little reveries—whether by literal snapping, slapping upside the head, or shaking vigorously—but it doesn’t always work. And then every time they pass by her locker or the Blue and Gold, Jones slows down, staring, and Sweet Pea has to push him forward. Each glimpse and reminder of Betty hollows Jones out, and there’s nothing Sweet Pea can do about it.

He gets it, kind of. He has his own experience with a Northside cheerleader who prefered Archie, but his fling with Josie doesn’t hold a candle to Jones’s long-term love affair with Betty. He might not be able to understand the loss Jones must be going through, but he _is_ able to understand the feeling of inferiority to the golden boy who can do no wrong that Jones must be experiencing. It fucking sucks, and it’s Sweet Pea’s duty to get Jones through it. If he can’t help Jones beat up Archie, then he can at least distract him so he doesn’t dwell on it all.

There are four surefire ways to distract Jones: Betty, investigations, arguments, and movies (food is a bust since he can always multitask while eating). And since Betty is what he’s distracting Jones _from_ and the only thing to investigate is neither a group activity nor on school grounds, it’s down to arguments and movies. Fortunately, it’s _really_ easy to pick a fight with Jones about movies, especially now that they have to decide on what to watch on the newly-established, weekly movie night.

It’s lunch time, with all four of them sitting at a table, with Sweet Pea and Fangs across from Jughead and Toni, and discussing movie night when Sweet Pea strikes.

“I say we watch _Clerks_.”

“No. No way,” Jones protests, beyond adamant.

“Come on, it’s a ‘90s indie film. Since when are you against those?” Sweet Pea argues, and the wrinkled disgust on Jones’s face is priceless.

“It’s by _Kevin Smith_ , it doesn’t count. If you want something by an indie filmmaker from the ‘90s—”

“If we watch one more Tarantino movie, I will murder you, Jughead,” Toni says, pointing at him with her fork before returning to her mashed potatoes.

“Fangs, back me up,” Sweet Pea insists.

“Look, as long as it’s not a fantasy movie, I’m fine. Kevin made me watch the entire extended cut of the Lord of the Rings trilogy last weekend in one sitting and I can’t take any more. Although if I _had_ to pick—”

Toni groans. “I swear to god, if you list _another_ old musical—”

“Jughead! Jug!” And Sweet Pea must have gotten so absorbed in their argument that he dropped his guard, because Archie surprises them all, running up with an eager desperation. The whole table tenses, and Toni and Fangs look the way Sweet Pea feels, like they’re one second away from jumping up and throttling Archie. And Jones? Jones looks somewhere between exhausted and furious. “I’ve been—” 

“Back the fuck off, Archie.” Sweet Pea pops up and gets right in Archie’s face, blocking his view of Jones completely. Just a glance back shows him that Fangs is ready to back him up with his fists at any second and Toni’s got a death grip on her fork, looking like she’s about to launch herself over Jones to get to Archie.

“This has nothing to do with you,” Archie says, pushing past him, and Sweet Pea would jump him if it wasn’t for Jones’s pointed look, one that says _He’s not worth it_. “Jughead. Jug, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”

“I’m not interested in your excuses, Arch. And I don’t have anything to say to you, so just leave,” he bites out, aggressively pointing at Archie, and thank god that angry Jones is back.

“But, Jug—” Persistent, Archie takes another step toward Jones, and Sweet Pea is fucking _done_. He pulls Archie back by the collar of his shirt until he can shove him away.

“You heard him, get the fuck out of here.” Glaring, Sweet Pea gives him one last shove and doesn’t say, _You lost your right to talk to him, you no-good fuckwit_.

Sweet Pea glances back at Jones and sees Toni and Fangs stand up, Toni with that fork raised and Fangs with his fists clenched, and the one-more-step-and-you’re-a-dead-man energy comes off them in waves. But Jones just sits there, gaping at them with his fork limp in his hand like he didn’t see this coming. 

_In unity there is strength, idiot._

Archie backs off with a look of _we’re not done here_ , and Sweet Pea makes a note to have a _talk_ with him.

Once Archie is gone, they all sit back down. The tension lingers, and Jones looks back and forth between them like he’s trying to solve a puzzle. Sweet Pea knows that Jones would go to bat for him—hell, the guy helped him cover up a murder—so he doesn’t know why Jones is so surprised now. They’re _Serpents_. And sure, they could talk about this, have a warm heart-to-heart about friendship and family and Jones’s insecurities, but Sweet Pea’s not that kind of guy, and it’s not the kind of conversation to have in public anyway.

So he moves to steal a tortilla chip from the bag on Jones’s tray, and Jones immediately bats his hand away with a half-hearted glare. “Don’t even think about it.”

And just like that, the tension is broken, and Jones is back to his almost-normal self.

“Fine, see if I share my food with you again.”

With the ghost of a smile, Jones picks his bag of tortilla chips back up and dryly says, “You have never shared food with me in the entire time I’ve known you.”

“And now I never will, dick.”

“If you two could stop acting like children, we still have a movie to decide on,” Toni butts in.

“I still vote _Clerks_ ,” Sweet Pea declares, mostly to piss off Jones.

“ _No_.”

The debate that ensues lasts the rest of lunch. In the end, Toni’s suggestion of _The Runaways_ wins the day.

* * *

But after Archie’s little show at lunch, Sweet Pea knows he needs to teach him a lesson.

Luckily for him, Veronica got custody of Reggie in the breakup, leaving Archie with just one friend to protect him. So it isn’t too hard for Sweet Pea to surprise Archie in the community center when Munroe isn’t around and deck him. It’s a good thing Jones gave him his brass knuckles back, or breaking Archie’s nose wouldn’t be so easy, or so satisfying. Something about the sound of brass meeting cartilage makes Sweet Pea smile today.

“What the hell, man?!” Archie shouts, clutching his bleeding and definitely broken nose.

“Are you actually that stupid? You broke Jones’s heart, I broke your face. And if you try to come near him, I’ll break it again, so don’t even think about it,” Sweet Pea threatens, glaring at him with every ounce of resentment toward the Northside and the way Northsiders have treated him and his friends and family his whole life.

Archie squares up as much as he can, but it’s hard for him to look tough and macho while he’s got his hand over his nose and blood everywhere. “He’s my friend, my _best_ friend—”

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Sweet Pea interjects.

“—And I need to talk to him,” Archie continues, ignoring him. “If I have to go through you, I will.”

Sweet Pea takes a step closer, using his height to his full advantage. “Oh really? You think you can win this? Because I don’t care about honor or fighting fair or any of that shit. I care about vengeance, and justice, and keeping you the hell away from my friend, and I know a _lot_ of people just _itching_ to fuck you up,” he says, and he’s right. A _lot_ the teen Serpent wants a piece of Archie—not to mention Reggie, who’s practically foaming at the mouth with rage, and honestly, Sweet Pea’s surprised Reggie didn’t get to Archie first—and, while Toni’s mostly riled up the Poisons about Betty, Sweet Pea’s sure they’d like to take their shot at Archie too, for Veronica’s sake if not for Jones’s.

Archie looks like he’s about to protest, but Sweet Pea cuts him off. “Save it, I’m not interested in anything you have to say. You’re a shitty friend, Archie, you have been since you were playing at being a baby mafioso, maybe longer. Anyone other than Jones would never have forgiven you for the shit you pulled sophomore year, but he did, no questions asked, because that’s how he is. He even let you into the Serpents, not that you ever cared or understood what that means. But now you’ve somehow managed to find something he won’t forgive, and you can’t go back. Your excuses, your apologies, they’re meaningless. All that matters is your shitty actions and the damage they’ve done.”

“He’s my best friend! I need to explain—”

“No, he _was_ your best friend, and then you threw it away for a game of tonsil hockey with the girl he loves more than anything as if it all meant nothing. Friends don’t pull that shit, and they sure as hell don’t hide it until they’re forced to come clean. So don’t you _dare_ call yourself his friend, because you’re not; you’re just the traitor who broke his heart. He doesn’t want to see you again, he said so himself, and maybe you should respect his wishes for once in your damn life. Just stay the fuck away from Jones, don’t even look at him. Take one step toward him again, and you’ll be lucky if you just have me to deal with.”

Archie’s mask of bravado falls, and in its place lies guilt, regret, and understanding. _It’s about fucking time_ , Sweet Pea thinks. Then, while Archie stares at him with his mouth agape, Sweet Pea takes the opportunity to get in one last parting shot, and Archie’s pained groan is so, so worth it.

“And get rid of that tattoo; you don’t deserve to wear it.”

Sweet Pea leaves the community center and heads home, secure in the knowledge that Archie will take their little talk to heart.

* * *

Later that night, Sweet Pea gets a text from Betty: _I need to talk to you about Jughead. Meet me in the Blue and Gold in the morning, please. Please, I need your help._

Sweet Pea wonders why Betty texts him at first, but then he remembers that Toni openly hates her and Fangs apparently dragged her off to get lobotomized once, making Sweet Pea the friendly one by default, which is weird because he’s never been the friendly one before.

He weighs his options. On one hand, he has zero interest in hearing Betty’s excuses, but on the other, he _does_ need to tell her to stay away from Jones, and this sounds like a good opportunity to do that.

So Sweet Pea texts her back: _Fine, but make it early. I don’t want anyone seeing us._

She responds: _How’s 6:15?_

And Jesus fuck, that is early, but desperate times, desperate measures, etcetera, etcetera. So he texts back a thumbs up, sets his alarm to an ungodly hour, and goes to bed.

* * *

When he gets to the Blue and Gold the next morning, Betty is already there, leaning against the desk and facing the door. Despite her red-rimmed eyes, she looks mostly put together, except how her ponytail is a bit askew and there’s a nervous energy coming off of her as she taps her fingers on the desk behind her.

Sweet Pea _really_ wishes he could make this easy, just break Betty’s nose too, but he knows that if he did, Jones would break _his_ and maybe more. Even now the dumbass is protective of her, and there’s a no-shit-talking-Betty zone around him, which blows. He doesn’t act like she’s perfect—gets pissed when she’s called that, actually, for whatever reason—but even one vague insult gets a death glare. He’ll allow _cheater_ and _liar_ , but take one step toward _cheating bitch_ or even _liar with her endless ugly sweaters_ and the teeth come out. Jones’s bite is worse than his bark—partially because his bark leans more toward annoying than threatening but mostly because Jones is the kind of crazy that’s hard to predict in a fight—and his bite _always_ takes on a new ferocity when Betty’s at risk. Sweet Pea isn’t interested in learning what batshit crazy version of Jones would appear if he went after Betty right now, what all that bottled-up grief and rage would turn his friend into.

(Well, he’s not interested in learning _firsthand_. He’d _love_ to see Archie on the other end of it.)

So instead he’s stuck here, about to face off with the second most stubborn person he’s ever met.

The second Betty sees him, she stands up straight, dusting herself off. 

“How is he? Is he ok?” she asks, hands fiddling in front of her, and Sweet Pea doesn’t understand why she sounds so desperate and concerned, why her eyes are pleading with him to give her even a single piece of information.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no, he’s not,” he replies, crossing his arms. Worry paints her paling face, but before she can say another word, he asks, “What do you want?”

“I need your help, I need to talk to him,” she says, insistent. She stands with perfect, tense posture, and her hands are clenched tight together in front of her. She looks ready to start some lecture about how he should help her, and he would rather listen to Jones monologue about his novel, or how Tarantino is the godfather of indie cinema, or literally anything else than hear her out.

Scowling, he takes a step forward. “No, you don’t. You need to leave him the fuck alone.”

Taking a deep breath, she moves her twitching hands to her sides and says, “ _No_ , I need to tell him that—”

He points at her and raises his voice when he cuts her off with, “You need to back the fuck off—”

“ _Shut up!_ ” she shouts, fists clenched at her sides so tight she’s practically shaking. Sweet Pea is taken back just enough for her to passionately argue, “I need to tell him that I love him! He has to know, he _needs_ to know. I have to explain what happened, how I felt—”

“It doesn’t matter how _you felt_ ,” he snaps, taking another step toward her. “Whether you were just sick of slumming it on the Southside or you genuinely love him and fucked up, _it doesn’t matter_.”

Even as he looms over her, she keeps her shoulders back and looks him dead in the eye as she says, “It _does_ matter because I—”

“Yeah, you love him, whatever,” he dismisses with a wave of his hand. “If you love him so much, do him a favor and leave him alone. Stay out of sight. Just keep away so he can get over you and move on with his life. Because right now, he’s fucking miserable, and the less he sees of you the better.”

And Betty backs down for the first time since he’s met her. She takes a step back, and, in a voice smaller than he thought her capable of, she asks, “He’s that bad?”

Sweet Pea thinks of how Jones’s half-smiles and half-smirks barely reach his eyes; how sometimes, when he thinks none of them are looking, his face goes blank and his eyes lose all feeling; how the smallest reminders of her make him go quiet and stare off into the distance, looking lost and alone like a ship adrift at sea. Sometimes he’ll act like the Jones Sweet Pea knows, but there’s always something off, something empty, something _gone_. Archie and Betty ripped something out of him, and it’s not coming back, not for a long time, maybe ever.

“Yes, he’s that bad, do you not have eyes or something? Have you not seen him? Half the time he’s barely there. The second he sees you or hears your name, he’s like a fucking zombie. You didn’t just break his heart, you broke _him_ ,” he snarls.

She straightens herself, a steel glint in her eyes, and declares, “I can help, I can fix it, I know I can. I just need to remind him how much I love him, and once he understands I didn’t mean—”

He almost laughs at the absurdity of her claim. “Do you really think that’s going to happen? Do you really think you can change _Jones’s_ mind?”

She raises her chin. “Yes, I do, and yes, I can.”

“God, I thought you were cold-blooded, not _stupid_ ,” he groans, rubbing one hand down his face. He takes a deep, calming breath and says, “Let me spell it out for you: _he doesn’t trust you_. He isn’t going to believe a word out of your mouth that he doesn’t already believe. And I _promise you_ that he doesn’t believe you love him. At all. From what I heard, he’s not sure you _ever_ loved him.”

“He can’t...he can’t actually..." She reels back like he’s struck her, and as tears well up in her eyes, he thinks, _Fucking finally._

“Yeah, he can, because you _cheated on him with Archie_ and lied about it for two fucking weeks.” Taking a step toward her, he spits out, “You can dress it up however you want with _feelings_ and _nostalgia_ and _‘I didn’t mean to’_ , but that’s what happened, and it’s all that matters. End of story.”

Silence.

“Do you get it now? You can’t come back from what you did, you can’t help him, you can’t fix anything. All you can do is leave him alone.”

“If I do...maybe you could text me updates on him? I’ll be as gone as I can be, and you could just tell me if he’s ok. Please, I _need_ to know he’s ok,” she begs, desperation and hope in her watery eyes, and he’s never seen her so pitiful before.

He scoffs. “We’re not friends, Betty, I’m not texting you shit. You don’t deserve to know how he’s doing anymore, you gave up that right the second you kissed Archie.”

She steps back to lean against the desk again, and for a while, she is quiet, despairing as she looks down at the floor. When she looks back up, she asks, “You were never here to help me, were you?”

“No.”

“I should have known; it’s so obvious.” She sighs, clenching and unclenching her hands, and her voice breaks when she tells him, “I just...I just want to talk to him. He’s moved out, he’s not answering my texts, he’s not returning my calls, he’s just _gone_. He’s been my best friend, the one constant in my life, and he’s _gone_ and I don’t even know if he’s ok.”

“And whose fault is that?” he asks, looking down at her.

Tears starting to roll down her cheeks, she chokes out, “It’s mine, I know it’s mine, I just—I just—”

“You just what? Want to ease your own conscience? Want to beg him to take you back?” he mocks.

“No, I just want him to be ok.” She wipes the tears from her eyes. “I want to support him like he’s supported me. I want him to know he’s loved. I want him to smile, he should always have a reason to smile.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you lied and cheated on him.”

She stills and goes quiet. The fight seemingly drained out of her, her shoulders slump and her eyes fall to the floor.

“You’re right, and I’ll stay away from him. I will,” she says, voice weak. But when she looks back up, there’s a spark in her eyes, and she firmly says, “But if he comes to me, I’m not turning him away, and don’t you dare interfere with it. And, you better take good care of him. If he won’t accept that I love him...you have to make sure that he knows you do. I won’t let him be alone again.”

Sweet Pea sighs; she really is as stubborn as Jones. “Look, I’m not going to tell him I love him or any of that flowery crap, but he’s going to understand that he’s our friend, okay? And of course we’re going to look out for him, that’s why I’m here in the first place. Keeping you away from him is step one in protecting him. And if he decides to talk to you, that’s his business; trying to control Jones would be an exercise in frustration. But it better be _his_ choice, not you butting in for whatever reason. Do we have an understanding?”

“Yes,” she says with a sorrowful voice and a sharp nod.

“Good. I better not see you again.”

He leaves, not even sparing her one last look.

He might not be able to keep Betty away forever, but at least he’s keeping her away until Jones is ready to face her. For now, he’ll count this as a win.

* * *

Later that morning, when Sweet Pea meets up with Jones, Toni, and Fangs in the student lounge before homeroom, Betty is nowhere to be found _and_ he has the pleasure of seeing Archie walk by with his nose all bruised and bandaged.

Without even turning to Sweet Pea, Jones asks, “You broke his nose, didn’t you?”

“Me? Nah, I’m sure he just walked into a glass door thinking it wasn’t there or something.”

Toni snickers, and Sweet Pea can see her thumbs up from the corner of his eye while Fangs pats him on the back.

“ _Sweet Pea_ ,” Jones presses.

“Fine, I broke his nose. But he had it coming! He can’t pretend to be your friend after he kissed your girlfriend; shit doesn’t work like that. You said you wanted him to leave you alone, now he will, trust me.”

Jones nods, a thoughtful look on his face.

Suddenly, Archie turns his head, and the second he sees Jughead and Sweet Pea, he speeds up and gets the hell out of there.

“What did you say to him?” Jones asks, amusement in his voice.

“That he’s a shitty friend and no one cares why they did what they did. That a betrayal’s a betrayal and you don’t want to see him again. That he needs to stay away from you or I’d break his nose again.”

“Looks like it worked,” Toni says. “But I can’t believe you did this alone; I wanted my shot, too.”

Fangs nods. “Same.”

But the bell rings before Toni and Fangs can complain further about him not bringing them with him on his mission to beat up Archie. As they make their way to homeroom, Jones asks, “Why go that far?”

“We’re friends. We’re _Serpents_.” Does he not get it?

“Yeah, Serpents,” Fangs echoes, slapping him on the back.

“Try not to forget it again,” Toni says as she taps his temples.

_No Serpent stands alone. A Serpent never betrays their own. In unity, there is strength._

_We’ll protect you, we’re your family, and we’re not going anywhere._

Sweet Pea doesn’t care how long it’ll take to get that through Jones’s thick skull; he’ll keep pushing until it does.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is mostly going to be a friendship fic, although there will be some bughead-positive moments. Jughead very much still loves Betty, but his friends, uh...yeah, they're not fans. I, personally, still love Betty dearly, but this isn't my POV, so people will be mean to her as well as Archie.
> 
> Eternal thanks to Cyd, who did such and excellent job betaing.


End file.
